


I Want My Friend Back

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Gallifrey, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense, timelords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-04-29 08:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14468910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: The Doctor is tasked with a mission from the Timelords, pulling him away from his duties at St. Luke's University. With Missy coming along for the ride, is the Doctor in over his head? And has Missy truly turned good?





	1. Chapter 1

The Doctor had been at St. Luke’s University for a long time. He’d seen a small lesson in history play out in real time; enjoyed the evolution of music from big band to rock and roll to rap and dubstep. The one thing he could never keep track of, though, was fashion. 

When he’d started guarding the Vault all those years ago, his classes had been filled with suits and ties and shortly cropped hair. Then they finally allowed short khakis in the summer. And on to bell-bottoms, big hair, sweatshirts, a short fling with crop tops. 

Now the fad was a more difficult to define. Fashion had really taken an ‘anything goes’ approach in the twenty first century. Still, most of the students had some sense of style. Bill was usually keeping him updated with the latest trends: a bit of an eighties vibe; simple pieces but easy to personalize.

As he thought about this, the Doctor sat eating his lunch, an apple and a bag of crisps, outside on the rare sunshine of an April day. He looked around at the students passing by with their backpacks over one shoulder, half of them throwing him a smile and a greeting. He found himself smiling, too. 

That is, until his eye caught a figure in the distance, approaching him directly. This man was not wearing any of the styles he had seen at the university thus far, nor anything Bill had described with the word ‘fleek’, ‘lit’, or ‘fire’. No; this one was different. Not good different, either. The Doctor could get behind the kids wearing clashing patterns. But what this person wore made him think of one thing only; trouble.

On the man’s head was a black hat with fabric that covered his ears. He walked with his hands folded together under a large robe. At the shoulders, the man’s outfit just became ridiculous; a shoulder piece that looked like padding for a gridiron football game. The Doctor bit into his apple and ignored the racing thoughts going through his brain. 

When the man reached his bench and cast a shadow over him, the Doctor kept his eyes locked on his apple. Above him, the man cleared his throat. 

“I have been sent from Gallifrey to deliver a message,” the man said. The Doctor took another bite of his apple before looking up. He didn’t recognize the man. Still, that wasn’t saying much for Gallifreyans.

“I’m busy,” the Doctor said simply.

The man’s face jerked, eyebrows creasing. One of Gallifrey’s elites, most likely. Wasn’t used to being crossed. The Doctor wondered what the poor man did to be sent on a ‘grab-the-Doctor-from-Earth’ mission.

“As a member of the High Council, I implore you listen to the urgent matter I…”

“‘Implore’,” the Doctor said haughily. “Good word. But a bit misleading. Is this a command or a suggestion?” The Doctor took another bite of his apple.

The man shifted uncmfortably. “I command you put down your food and listen to what I have to say. As a high-ranking leader of your species, I do have that right and I am offered that respect.”

“Ooh, respect. There’s another good word.” The Doctor met the Timelord’s eyes and, unblinking, tossed the core of his apple seamlessly into the nearest trash bin. He folded his hands on his lap. “Please do go on.”

The man shifted again, but righted himself into some composure. “There is a rescue mission in progress, carried out by one of our finest fleets. But they are not projected to win. The enemy is smart; tactful. They will not be defeated easily.”

The Doctor turned from the Timelord, looking back at the students walking by. The little Earth school that had become his home. “I’m not a soldier. Not anymore. Never again.”

“No, but we don’t need a soldier. We need someone who always wins.”

The Doctor scoffed. “Why does everyone think I always win? I lost to this bag of crisps today; do you think you can open this for me?”

The Doctor held out the bag to the Timelord. The man’s eyes grew in size. The Doctor dropped the crisps back to the bench with a small smile. The Timelord wasn’t impressed.

“Doctor...there are lives at stake. So many lives.”

The Doctor’s lips curled back into a frown. “Who are they rescuing?”

“Those details cannot be disclosed,” the Timelord replied. The Doctor scoffed. “But Doctor.” The Timelords met each other’s eyes. “The High Council would not have sent me here unless it were absolutey necessary.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment. Then the Doctor held out the bag of crisps again. 

The Timelord lowered his brows. “So will you help us?” He asked.

The Doctor nodded pointedly at the bag. The other Timelord rolled his eyes, but took the bag and tore it open. The Doctor took it back with a small grin forming.

“I’ll think about it.”

The other Timelord was about to argue, but the Doctor held up a hand. “That’s the best I can do.”

The other Timelord conceded. He folded his hands, bowed, and disappeared. A few students eyed him curiously as he walked across the grounds. 

The Doctor ate his crisps in silence, pondering over the Timelord’s words as the birds and students chattered around him.

. . . . .

That night, as Bill questioned him on evolution and they discussed Picasso’s art, the Doctor couldn’t help but think back to that strange conversation, with that strange man from his planet. It hardly seemed right to call Gallifrey his planet anymore. He felt far more at home on Earth; here, with Bill, discussing the universe and its complexity. Its beauty. The Doctor’s nine track mind gave his eyes a glaze, which did not go unnoticed by his inquistitve pupil.

“Doctor?” Bill asked, not for the first time that night. “You alright? You seem a bit distracted tonight.”

The Doctor, whose chin had been resting on his hand, sat up abruptly. “It’s nothing. Got a call from home, that’s all.”

A flash of curiosity came into Bill’s eye. He didn’t talk much about Gallifrey to her. Better to forget; move on. Too many bad memories. Too many regrets. He couldn’t remember much from the last time he’d been there, but he did know he wasn’t quite the Doctor back then. He had killed someone; or, at least, caused a regeneration. Others he had merely frightened. He still wondered what had made him do it. What had been so important?

The Doctor realized he was lost in thought again and shook his head, peering off to the side. Bill, surprisingly, left the conversation at that. For once, she didn’t ask anything further. Perhaps she understood, somehow. Maybe she understood even more than he did himself.

When Bill left that night, the Doctor felt a wave of guilt crash into his system. Should he have told her? Told her that he might go on a dangerous mission soon? Revealed his dark secrets and his painful memories? Wasn’t that what friends did?

The Doctor took in a shaky breath. What was this feeling? Why couldn’t he keep his thoughts straight? Why were his hearts hammering in his chest?

He was afraid. The realization struck him. Gallifrey always made him afraid. The Timelords were always trouble. No wonder he’d run away from them. And yet…

And yet went Nardole came in with tea and cakes, the Doctor found he couldn’t stay silent anymore.

“Nardole, I might be about to do something you won’t approve of.”

Nardole groaned at that. “I’m holding out hope for the ‘might’ part,” Nardole said. 

The Doctor threw him a smile, but couldn’t hold it. His foot tapped restlessly against the wooden floor. Nardole sat and sipped his tea. “What is it?” Nardole asked, his voice small but serious.

The Doctor didn’t meet his eye. “A Timelord came to the school today. He said there’s a rescue mission that’s not going well. An important rescue mission. Life or death for dozens.”

Nardole groaned again. “Can’t they send someone else? You’re hardly even one of them any…”

Nardole stopped himself. A pang hit the Doctor, but he ignored it. A moment of silence passed between the two.

“Nardole,” the Doctor said quietly. “They wouldn’t have asked me if it wasn’t important.”

“No; they wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t dangerous.” Nardole sighed. “Just…come back safely. Alright? Not just for me. For Bill. And everyone else around here.”

The Doctor smiled to himself. “I will. I’ll, er...I’ll have Missy with me.”

Nardole practically spat out his tea. “Excuse me?”

“Field trip. It’ll be a good experience for her. Real time rescuing. What better way to learn how to be good? To see the benefits of helping out and saving lives?”

Nardole set his tea down hard. A few drops splashed out onto the table. “Or what better way to get yourself killed. If not by Missy then by whoever the Timelords are fighting this time.”

The Doctor waved him off. “Don’t be such a pessimist.”

“Don’t give me that.” Nardole leaned back in his chair. “Look...you need to stop this. I thought you were happy here. I thought we had a good thing going. You’re teaching. You’re living a normal, lovely little life.”

The Doctor finally met Nardole’s eyes. “I am happy, but Nardole,” the Doctor took in a shaky breath. “I can’t forsake them. Even after all this time. They...there was a time when I thought I was the only one left. And even though they aren’t perfect...well, it’s better than them not being there at all.”

The Doctor shook his head. “I have to help them.”

Nardole sighed again, and raised his tea to his lips. “Alright. But come back in one piece, eh? I don’t know enough quantum physics to take over your lectures for you.”

The Doctor smiled softly in reply, and the two aliens each took a sip of their tea.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Walking into the underground space where the Vault was kept, the Doctor felt a sudden chill. Coming down here was usually a quiet, pensive time. He’d listen to Missy playing piano, or snack on some leftovers from dinner. Every once in a while he’d go inside and talk to her for a while. But tonight…

When the door appeared in front of him, the lights of the locks flashing, the Doctor took a slow, deep breath. There was every chance that something would go wrong on this little outing. Maybe the Timelords would get him into trouble. Maybe the ‘good guys’ would lose. Maybe Missy wasn’t really changed and she’d turn on him the second they got inside the TARDIS. 

The Doctor closed his eyes. No. Hope had kept him alive for so long; now he had to return the favor and keep it alive. Missy was different now; of course she was. Why else would she have asked for help? And the Timelords, frustrating as they were, they were his people. They needed him and they were doing something important. Of course they were.

The Doctor began unlocking the door before he could change his mind. When the door clanged open, he put on a little bit of mock confidence and entered the Vault. He balled his hands into fists so they’d stop shaking. 

“Hope you’re rested up. We’re going on a little field trip,” the Doctor said, shutting the door behind him.

Missy was seated on the small platform at the far end of the room, batting her umbrella on the floor in an ominous rhythm. She met his eyes and raised a brow. “Field trip?”

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door. “We’ll be back before sunrise; probably. I have a thing I have to do and I need your help.”

“Can’t one of your pets help you, dear?”

The Doctor ignored her comment, nodding his head toward the door. “Come on. You wouldn’t rather stay in here all night, would you?”

Missy paused for a second, and then stood and went to the door. The Doctor held it open for her and followed right behind. The hairs on the back of his neck were already raised in apprehension. Or was it dread?

. . . . . . . .

“So what is this field trip?” Missy asked, pacing slow circles around the TARDIS console. The Doctor looked at the screen as he pulled down the closest lever. Nardole was in the office, staring right at the camera, a stern expression on his face. The Doctor turned off the screen.

“Little mission from the Timelords.”

Missy rolled her eyes. 

“One of their fleets is in a bit of trouble,” the Doctor explained. “They’re on a rescue mission and it’s not going well. They need us.”

Missy leaned over the console, elbows dangerously close to a few important switches. “Doctor, I highly doubt they need either of us. They hardly even noticed us when we lived there.”

The Doctor felt a pang hit him in the chest, the second that night. He stayed silent a moment to let it pass.

“Well, maybe they’re starting to notice us,” he said with a small voice.

Missy shrugged and danced around with her umbrella while the Doctod continued to steer. It was only another minute or so of flying before they were landing.

The Doctor turned the screen back on. They were at the end of a long, empty white corridor. The Doctor smirked darkly. “Now’s when the fun begins. Ready to go on your first TARDIS outing, Missy?”

The Doctor rushed to the door and spread out an ushering arm, but Missy hung back by the console.

“Why are you doing this?”

The Doctor’s arm faltered, falling back to his side. His eyebrows creased in an unspoken question. Missy scoffed.

“Don’t look at me like that. Why are you doing all of this? Helping the Timelords; helping me. Bringing me out on one of your adventures, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor bit his lip. “It’s my job. It’s what I promised. All those years ago. To never give up. Not on you nor them.”

Missy almost rolled her eyes again. “As if you care about Timelord traditions and ceremonies.”

The Doctor swallowed hard. “Before anything else, you were my friend. And before anything else, I was a Gallifreyan. Not necessarily a good one, but...I have responsibilities. To you and to them.” He pushed the doors open. “Let’s go save the day, eh? Can we do that for just a few hours?”

Satisfied, Missy led the way into the corridor. The Doctor locked the door behind him and turned inquisitive eyes to the ship they were now on. “Let’s find out what we’re dealing with here.”

………

The corridor was bright and empty, an endless array of winding gray walls; gray floors; gray ceiling. It looked straight out of a Star Wars film. 

The Doctor and Missy traversed a few rounding hallways carefully, peering around each corner like a tiger may be waiting on the other side. As the made their way down the fifth corridor, the Doctor paused. 

“Missy,” he whispered, ducking behind a jut in the wall. She followed and fit awkwardly behind him as a man and woman walked by. They both wore armor. They both carried guns.

“We’ve arrived at the North juncture,” the man said into a communicator. “Still haven’t found those plans.”

The Doctor cast a suspicious eyebrow toward Missy. Just after he did so, the female soldier grabbed him and pushed him against the wall. The man cocked his gun.

“Who are you?” The woman asked.

The Doctor raised his hands as much as he could beneath her powerful arms.

“The Timelords sent us to help you. Rescue mission; yes?”

The woman let him go. “Something like that,” she murmured. The Doctor brushed off his shoulder.

The man lowered his weapon, but kept a watchful eye on both the Doctor and Missy. “So you’re the famous Doctor. And who’s she?”

Missy leaned toward the Doctor. “Just as courteous as I remembered them.” She mockingly curtsied to the soldier. “Missy, at your service. Though you might know me as the Master.”

The soldier scoffed. “Great. We’ve got the reject twins as our backup. I don’t know what the High Council expects…”

The Doctor’s eyebrows lowered.

“We’re only here because you needed help,” he said, his voice inflected with bitterness.

The Timelord rolled his eyes. “You’re only here because the High Council can’t afford for this mission to go wrong.”

The Doctor let his anger subside to curiosity. “What is the mission? They never said. Who are we rescuing.”

The woman perked up. “‘Who’ we’re rescuing is, possibly, all of Gallifrey. But ‘what’ we’re rescuing is this.” 

She held up her wrist, dialling in a few buttons on her tech. A blue hologram appeared, depicting a cube with ancient Gallifreyan scribbled all over it. The Doctor’s eyebrows lowered again.

“Battle plans. War tactics. Strategies and fleet numbers.” He looked up at the soldiers with empty eyes. “This isn’t a rescue mission. This is military campaign. You’re not rescuing people. You’re rescuing your jobs.”

The Doctor shook his head, wiped his face with his hand, and then walked off at double speed, back toward the TARDIS. Missy followed after him.

“They can deal with their mistakes on their own,” the Doctor said. “I’m not saving them from themselves again. Never again.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

As the Doctor stormed through the corridors with his eyes locked forward, Missy trailed behind. She walked with her hands behind her back, whistling as if out for a casual stroll. The Doctor ignored her for a while, but once she started humming ‘Camptown Races’, he stopped suddenly and whipped his head around to face her.

“What is it?” 

Missy glanced at the wall. “Odd design on the wall, isn’t it?”

The Doctor looked, but shook his head. Illegible scribbles. Probably a design trend. He kept walking.

From around the corner, sounds of boots and heavy armor clanked into the Doctor’s ears. He stopped, but the soldiers were already coming around the corner. They word Gallifreyan symbols signifying their ranks. 

The soldier in the front held up his weapon, but let it drift down as he took in the two figures in front of him. “Doctor?”

The Doctor’s expression was unreadable. “You should all go home.”

The soldier in the front, ‘Jo Thor’ the Doctor remembered him as, scoffed. “And why would we do that?”

The Doctor looked each of them in the eye. Ten or so in all. At least four of them were shaking in their boots. “Trust me, the Timelord Army is never going to be finished making trouble. Your mission today is only going to continue the bloodshed.”

“We’re trying to keep a war from happening. We’re here to…”

The Doctor held up a hand, closing his eyes. “Yes, yes, yes; you’re here to retrieve some silly plans some other Timelords let get stolen.”

Jo Thor shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You spoke with the general, then?”

The Doctor met them each in the eye again. “ You can’t keep the peace from the barrel of a gun.”

Jo Thor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we just let the enemy learn all of our plans? Learn where all of our bases are? Storm into Gallifrey and commit genocide?”

The Doctor looked down. “I’m only saying that Gallifrey has been at war for centuries. For some reason, it’s never once caused peace. Only heartache. Only suffering. Look at yourselves. You’re armed and ready to kill over what? A few pieces of paper?”

Jo Thor shook his head. “I can’t believe the Academy sent you to help us. The traitor. The one who wouldn’t pick up a gun even to save his own race. The scared little boy from the desert who deserted his planet in its hour of need.”

The Doctor’s eyes lit up, and then he turned on his heel. His hand took Missy’s arm in a vice grip as he trudged away from the Timelords, his breaths coming shorter and shorter through flared nostrils. 

“We are not going to be a part of this,” he said, voice grave. 

Behind them, Jo Thor called out, “Always running away from your own kind. You haven’t changed as much as your face suggests, Doctor.”

The Doctor froze for a moment, and then continued down the hallway at double speed. Missy pursed her lips and trailed after him, her eyes drifting over the walls once again.

The Doctor had his hands in his pockets, his eyes focused ahead, head bent down slightly. He was done helping them. He was done trying to please them. He couldn’t do this anymore; he was done.

So completely done.

His eye flickered over movement. A small hand held onto the edge of a jut in the wall. The Doctor continued forward, slowly. A small figure appeared; a young boy with big, worried eyes. Behind him stood a gray door, just slightly ajar. 

The Doctor gave the boy a smile he hoped was warm and carefully maneuvered to the door. He pulled it open slowly and let out a slow, shaky breath. He wasn’t about to leave this ship anytime soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The Doctor looked through the doorway and found many faces looking back at him. Some young; some old; all with the same anxious look in their eyes. Parents clutched their children close; others stared at the Doctor as if he were a nightmare. He tried another warm smile.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m the Doctor. This is Missy.”

One woman sitting on the floor beside him creased her eyebrows. “Where do you come from?”

The Doctor ushered in Missy and the young boy and shut the door behind them. He sank down to the peoples’ level.

“We’re Timelords. From Gallifrey.” 

There were a few gasps from the crowd. The Doctor held up his hands. “But we’re not against you. We’re just here to help. There’s a rebel army here to retrieve the battle plans. But we’re not with them.”

The woman shifted uncomfortably. “We are not soldiers.”

The Doctor’s smile grew. “We aren’t either.”

The woman smiled at that, and seemed to relax. “We are refugees. Our people had to flee, and this was one of the last ships available. We know it’s a military ship, but we are not fighters.”

The man beside her chuckled. “I didn’t even vote for this war. Our army picked a fight with the Timelords and they’ve been stealing from each other since.”

The Doctor sighed. “Sounds anout right.” He clapped his hands together. “Okay; Missy and I will be right back. You just; sit tight.”

The Doctor disappeared into the corridor, Missy following behind and shutting the door. 

“Okay,” the Doctor started, leaning against the wall. “So we’ve got a group of refugees hiding out on the ship of a military that stole plans from the Timelords. Elsewhere on this ship is a group of angry, armed Timelords ready to do almost anything to get those plans back. Okay. Okay.”

He shook his head to clear it, but came up empty. “I’m-I’m not sure what to do.”

Missy was staring at the wall behind the Doctor. He gave her a quirked eyebrow. “Got anything?”

She shook her head, eyes lighting up. “Oh no no no.”

The Doctor pushed away from the wall. “What is it?”

“The walls. Look.”

The Doctor turned back to the wall and focused on the design. Slowly, letters began appeared. Squares. Outlines. Blueprints. 

Oh no.

Missy leaned against the door. “The battleplans are a part of the ship. They’re all over the walls.”

The Doctor closed his eyes. Back against the wall; enemies all around; confusion and chaos almost certain.

“W-we have to tell the rebels. They can’t go storming in expecting to steal some paperwork. They’ll be annihalated.”

“They’ll want to blow up the ship.”

“I know!” The Doctor took a slow breath and calmed his voice. “I know.”

He wiped his face in his hands again. Missy watched him carefully. She shook her head with a small smile. “You still care so much about them. After everything they’ve done. After everything they’re going to do,” she said.

The Doctor stared at the wall, refusing to meet her eyes. She sighed.

“Are you gonna tell them about the kiddies hiding out, too?”

The Doctor nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you think it’ll make a difference?”

The Doctor turned to her suddenly. He paused for a moment, debating. 

“I’m hoping.”

Missy chuckled. “That’s what everything boils down to with you, isn’t it? Hope.”

The Doctor let his lips curl up into a lighthearted smile. “Yes.”

He walked off toward the rebel group, motioning for Missy to follow him. She shook her head again, but trailed behind him with new energy.

They heard the sound of boots against metal just before running almost literally into the General. His weapon rose to meet the Doctor’s chest instinctively.

The Doctor raised his hands, backing up a few paces. The General scoffed.

“Came back, did you?”

The Doctor’s face was stone. “Get off this ship.”

The General looked to his battlemates. All of them laughed. “Excuse me?” The General asked, approaching the Doctor slowly. “Do you want to repeat that?”

The Doctor paused for just a second. “The mission is more complicated than you think. Call it off. Go home. Regroup.”

Jo Thor came beside the General. “There’s no time for this nonsense. Sir, we should continue with the mission. Their just trying to waste our time.”

The General nodded to Jo Thor, but turned back to the Doctor with an inquisitive eye. “Did you find something?”

The Doctor licked his lips and glanced to Missy. She was cool as ever.

“We think,” she started. The Doctor motioned for her to continue. “The plans are a part of the design in the wall.”

Jo Thor laughed, but the General turned to the wall. Carefukly, he waited and watched as the symbols transformed themselves in his mind. His jaw dropped. “Jo Thor. Look.”

The younger man followed his orders. The smile was wiped instantly off of his face. 

The General reached slowly into his armor. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

He pulled out a square metal box lit up with buttons and wires. A bomb.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

“You can’t be serious!” 

The Doctor hurried toward the General with furrowed brows. The other man didn’t even blink.

“Oh I am, Doctor. I told you how important this mission is.”

The Doctor turned away, shaking his head. Suddenly, he spun back to the General.

“There are refugees on this ship.”

The General paused for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

The Doctor took in a deep breath. “We found a group of refugees. They’re using this ship as an escape pod.”

Jo Thor bit his lip. “Sir, is there a protocol for this?”

The General shook his head, but his fave became stony. “I can not put our entire planet at risk.”

The Doctor froze as the General tore through the crowd of soldiers and headed for the control room. Missy hung back with the Doctor, eyeing him curiously.

“How-” the Doctor started, stammering. “What do we do?”

Missy shrugged. “This is your specialty, not mine.”

He covered his face for a second, thinking. Then he followed quickly after the General.

“You can’t do this. You can’t seriously do this!”

The General began turning the Control Room doorlock. “I am not letting a deserter from the middle of nowhere make me choose the enemy over our own species.”

The Doctor grabbed the General by the shoulder. One of the nearby soldiers raised their weapon to keep him in check. 

“Does it matter whose side everyone is on?” The Doctor shouted. “The people in that room are terrified. They don’t care about the stupid war.”

Missy grit her teeth. “You might not want to shout at people with guns,” she murmured. The Doctor didn’t hear her.

The General opened the door. “There are innocent casualties in every war. That’s not my fault.”

“It is today,” the Doctor spat. “Today it is your fault! How many lost lives can you live with?”

The General’s gun suddenly hit the Doctor’s head. He was on the ground before he could say another word. The General smirked.

“Bloody hipocrite. Okay everyone, attack formation. In and out as fast as possible.”

Missy stayed in the corridor standing awkwardly above the Doctor as the soldiers charged into the room. A few shots were fired inside the Control Room.

Missy looked down at the Doctor. He was stirring, a bruise forming on his forehead. She tapped his shoulder with her foot and his eyes opened abruptly.

“The noisy boys are setting up that bomb, sleeping beauty.”

The Doctor jumped to his feet. “No no no-!”

He rushed into the Control Room. The General was crouched over the bomb, wiring it to some kind of machinery. The soldiers stood watching the room as guards. Three engineers lay dead or injured on the floor. The Doctor swallowed his fury and approached the General slowly.

“How many people have to die before you’ll take any of the blame?”

Without looking up, the General replied, “More people would die if we let the enemy continue. They would storm Gallifrey and destroy our entire planet. They’d know all of our strategies; all of our names and ranks.”

The Doctor put a hand on his aching head. “You can’t know that.”

The General scoffed. “What? Do you think they stole our military information so they could throw us a surprise party? Wake up, Doctor. You more than anyone knows the price of war. And you know that some must be sacrificed for the good of the many.”

The Doctor shook his head. “I was wrong then. And you’re wrong now. Killing is never the answer. You can negotiate. You can-”

The General held up a hand and got to his feet. “It’s done. I gave us all seven minutes. I suggest you get yourselves away from here. Thank you for all of your help. It turns out we didn’t need you as much as the Council thought.”

He sauntered out of the room, his soldiers trailing after him. The Doctor jumped toward the bomb, ticking ominously. 

“No; he’s deadlocked it.” The Doctor pushed his Sonic into the mechanics, but it did nothing. “Come on!”

Missy watched him work with increasing feeling rising in her. What was this emotion? Was she sad? Actually sad for these primitives? Or the Doctor? Was it anger at the General? No no no. She didn’t feel things like that. That was for people who cared. She wasn’t one of them. Definitely not.

A burst of sparks called Missy’s attention back to the Doctor. He was pulling wires out of random circuits, hoping for the best. Suddenly an even bigger spark blew, throwing the Doctor across the roon with a cry.

Missy found herself at his side before she could stop herself. “Doctor?”

He was completely unconscious this time, eyes closed and breathing slow. She tapped his face with her palm, but he didn’t stir. “What have you done, you numpty?”

She closed her eyes for a second, and then looked at the ticking clock on the bomb. Five minutes left. Right. 

She could just leave. That thought entered her mind and wouldn’t go away. 

She could run off and laugh hystericallt at how simple it had been, in the end. All those years fighting him and all she needed was a stereotypical, eerie little time bomb. She could spend the rest of her life in retired bliss, celebrating with the worst enemies in the universe. She could be hailed a hero to many, for seeing the end of the skinny Timelord so many were afraid of. 

She could walk out the door and never look back. Take the TARDIS as her own. Leave her feelings and her apologies and her tears behind and never have to face that Vault again. Never remember another name. Become who she had always wanted to be.

But something kept her feet planted to the spot. Something made it impossible to leave his sleeping body behind. But it wasn’t anything to do with him. 

It was something in her.

The thought was jarring. 

What had he done to her? Why was her chest aching? Why were there so many questions in her head and so few answers? Why did she feel...pity? Was this pity? And heartache? And pain? 

When had she become so...human?

A figure appeared at the door. The General, come to gloat. He looked almost sorry at first, when his eye ran over the Doctor, but then he turned away.

“You’re just going to leave him?” Missy shouted. She found there were tears running down her cheek.

The General gave her an odd look. “You’re not?”

Missy looked at the bomb, and the General, and the Doctor, and then down at her own two hands.

“No.”

The General shrugged. “Two birds with one stone. I’ve always known you two’d never be Time Lords. All those feelings. All that fear.”

Missy raised her chin. “You’re the coward around here.”

The General walked off down the corridor without another word. Missy looked back at the clock.

“Okay. Four minutes. Gotta get you and all the other apes off of this ship.”

She sighed and looked down at the Doctor, who was still unconscious. “Thank God you didn’t knock yourself out or anything. That would just make this so much more difficult than it needs to be.”

She rolled her eyes and went to the communicator by the door. She paused, and then picked it up.

“Hello?” She asked, in a mockingly sweet voice. “This is the Control Room. There’s been a huge fight--soldiers came in and everything.”

From the other line, the Commander of the ship replied, “Who is this? Do you need assistance?”

“I-I’m a new recruit. In engi-engineering. They...they planted a bomb. It’s counting down and I…”

“Oh my God,” a voice next to the Commander said. 

“Look, just get out of there,” said the Commander.

“We need to evacuate. Emergency evacuation. It’s going to blow in three minutes. Please, get everyone off of this ship. This is not a drill.”

There was silence for a moment. “Are you willing to bet your career on this?”

“Y-yes.”

The Commander breathed heavily, and then red lights began flashing all over the ship. From the loudspeakers came the same voice, slightly muffled.

“Attention everyone on this ship: get to the escape pods. I repeat: get to the escape pods. We deploy in three minutes.”

Missy set the communicator back on the hook and looked back at the Doctor. He still wasn’t moving.

“Come on, Doctor, time to wake up.”

She shook his shoulders, but he still didn’t stir. Missy stretched her arms. “You are going to owe me so much after this.”

She took him under the arms and started dragging him out of the room, checking behind her every few steps to avoid any collisions. Her back ached before they got to the threshhold.

When they reached a spot near the refugees’ door, Missy paused. One minute and thirty seconds left. Fantastic.

She opened the door and found at least thirty people still there, mostly men and older people.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“There aren’t enough escape pods for us. The ship was only meant for the crew.”

Missy took in a slow breath. “All these bloody heroes. It’s like you want to be martyrs.” She pointed down the hall. “Down there, make a righr, keep walking. You’ll see a big blue box. Get inside. All of you will fit. Two of you carry the Doctor and I’ll fly us home. Deal?”

Without time to argue, everyone in the room hurried out into the corridor and followed Missy’s instructions. She grabbed the TARDIS key off of the Doctor and made sure he was taken care of before dashing ahead of everyone. As soon as she opened the door, she went to the Console and awaited everyone else.

“Everyone in? Where’s the Doctor?”

Two men came hurrying in the door with the Doctor in their arms. “We’re the last!” One of them called out. 

Missy lifted the brake and pulled the lever closest to her, starting their ascent. The sound of the ship exploding echoed throughout the space as they narrowly escaped, hurtling into the time vortex.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The Doctor woke to blurred vision and fog marring everything in his brain. He shut his eyes against the dizzying feeling and tried to get his bearings. He was on his back on the floor. The TARDIS engines groaned in the back of his head, and his eyes shot open.

He lay in the Console room, a folded coat sitting under his head. It was Missy’s coat. The Doctor jumped to his feet and found her huddled over the controls.

“What happened?”

“Ah, sleeping beauty’s awake then,” Missy said without raising her head. 

The Doctor hurried beside her. “Missy, what did I miss? What happened? Did everyone escape?”

Missy rolled her eyes. “No; I saved you and left all of the primitives on the spaceship.”

For a moment, the Doctor really couldn’t tell if she were lying or not. His critical eye studied her face. He hardly breathed.

Then Missy flipped a switch and brought the screen over to him. “Everyone’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

On the screen stood all the refugees, smiling and waving at them as they flew away. The Doctor couldn’t contain his smile.

“Missy...you saved them. And me.”

She went to the other side of the Console. “Don’t get sentimental. It’s nauseating.”

The Doctor followed after and took her arm before she could walk away again. He waited until she met his eyes.

“Missy...thank you.”

She turned away abruptly and cleared her throat.

“Now...to the university?”

The Doctor approached the controls.

“I can steer us back.”

“You were comatose ten minutes ago. Let me do it. You go sit and prop your feet up.” She gave him her first genuine smile of the day. “You can trust me.”

The Doctor obeyed, going to the flight chair and closing his eyes as Missy flew them home. 

He realized suddenly that he wasn’t nervous. He didn’t think she had some secret plan. He wasn’t watching her with a close eye. 

He had his friend back, flying the TARDIS, helping him save the universe one person at a time. 

And with a smile, he realized that was all he’d ever wanted.


End file.
